


Hush

by distantstarlight



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Time, John is a slag, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mild Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Kink, PWP, Semi-Public Sex, Sherlock is not alarmed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:17:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3960646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is a doctor and a soldier. He earned the nickname Three Continents Watson for having a long and successful series of shags with random strangers in near public places. John likes to be the one who finds a bit of fun to have but what happens when your flatmate finds out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? Porn happened.

John Watson really liked sex. It was his favourite thing to do. All of John’s free time was devoted to the pursuit of someone, anyone, who wanted to have sex with him. He mostly chose women but he had no problem with men, an arse was an arse and John loved sex so much he didn’t care what he was going to get his mouth on when he got on his knees. When he got back to London he used what he had to go on the prowl immediately, his cane more of an attraction than a deterrent, even for someone as plain as he was. Limping through the writhing crowds at clubs was eye-catching and his smile was just cheeky enough to earn many a smile in return.

He was often lucky.

John was an average man who knew his strengths and how to make them work for him. He was unthreatening. He could be amusing. If he got that far he was an amazing kisser and that often led to many a tryst between meeting and parting, often in an evening. A large number of public bathrooms had enjoyed John’s presence as he bent one willing partner after another over to enjoy a few good minutes with one another. Sometimes he made it to their flat or hotel room and occasionally he brought them home but not often and that’s how John liked it.

John loved sex in public places. It was his favourite kink but finding someone who enjoyed it as much as he did was problematic. Most shags were one-offs, people who seriously had never done such a thing in their life, and never would again. Most people found that being buggered silly by an ex-army doctor while hanging onto the safety bar of the disabled stall to be an experience of a lifetime, one to be cherished and repeated never more. It was disappointing but it was what it was. John lived with it and kept chasing because that was his nature.

Having an extremely healthy sexual appetite and living with Sherlock Holmes was  _not_ harmonious. Sherlock was invasive and disruptive, interfering each and every time John brought someone home. Sherlock would be guaranteed to do something or say something that would offend or horrify or more often do both to the otherwise innocent person, shocking them into abandoning John and leaving him steaming mad and unsatisfied which is exactly what happened this time, “Dammit Sherlock!”

“The women you choose are boring!” said Sherlock, sounding disinterested.

“I wasn’t going to marry her! I just wanted an orgasm that involved more than my hand!” shouted John.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked at John, “No you didn’t.”

“Yes, it is, that’s in fact _exactly_ what I wanted,” said John hotly. Shelly, or Sheila, or Selma or whatever her name was had beautiful breasts and a heart-shaped arse. John had groped it extensively and had already received her invitation to do more than caress it. He could _kill_ Sherlock!

“No it’s not,” said Sherlock firmly.

“You don’t know what I want,” shouted John. He needed to take a shower and have a wank, cursing himself for not just taking her into the alley behind the club. There were two bins they could have hidden between.

Sherlock unwound himself from the sofa and stood tall in front of John. He stared down at John, his face a mask, _“Yes I do.”_ Sherlock pushed past John and went to his room, shutting the door firmly.

John stood in the middle of the floor cursing his life. It was too late to go out looking for a random hookup so with a string of fresh curses he took himself to the shower and used up every drop of hot water before he managed a less than satisfying orgasm. Tossing another curse at Sherlock’s door John took himself to bed and hoped the next night would be more successful.

It was. This time John found a lovely bird and took her to a janitorial supply closet close to a busy kitchen. She muffled her cries as John licked her slowly, enjoying the salty tang of her as he listened to the busyness only a few feet away. John buried his face in her folds, lapping and sucking hungrily as she sighed and writhed against him. When he’d had his fill he turned her around as was his wont and rolled on a condom before fucking her so hard she broke a fingernail when she orgasmed. She still didn’t give him her number but that was fine. _Mission accomplished_.

The next night they were on a case but Sherlock abandoned him in a club so John entertained himself with a lithe young blond lad who had a daddy kink that worked well with John’s love of public places and soon enough he was buried balls deep his tight little arse, the condom and lube making a deliciously wet sound as John fucked the young man to a swift orgasm. Both of them cleaned up afterwards and said farewell, under no illusion that this was more than a few minutes of fun. John went back to Baker Street happy.

 “You smell like sex,” said Sherlock accusingly when John got back.

John didn’t care, he felt fantastic, “That’s because I just had some.”

“I was gone for _an hour!”_ said Sherlock looking angry.

John just shrugged, “I don’t need a whole hour to make someone come. I didn’t know where you went. I decided to get laid instead of getting mad. It was great.”

“Did you even get her name?” demanded the tall man. He seemed to be really angry.

“No. I think he called himself Quentin or something, I wasn’t really paying attention.” John was tired now. He needed to wash up and get some sleep.

There was a brief silence, “ _His_ name.”

John looked at Sherlock, “Yeah, _his_ name.”

“You’re not gay.”

“I’m not _anything_. If I like someone, then I’m willing to have sex with them.”

“You have sex with _men?”_

“If I’m in the mood, yes. Why? Do _you?”_ If John was going to get interrogated he was going to get something out of it.

Sherlock came over to John, just looking at him for a minute before answering, “I seldom bother. It’s too difficult to find someone suitable.”

“You’re too fussy.” John shrugged. _He could find a shag any night of the week_.

“Not exactly fussy, I do have requirements though.” John stared at Sherlock.  _Requirements?_ _He was a virgin, wasn’t he? Everyone said so._ John had always thought it was a shame because Sherlock’s arse was divine.

“Requirements? What requirements?” John was curious now. _If Sherlock wasn’t a virgin maybe there was a bit of a chance there._ It wasn’t prudent to shag your flatmate but a stiff cock has no conscience and John was unfortunately very often ruled by the organ between his legs rather than the one inside his cranium.

Sherlock shrugged elegantly, “Location, location, location.” With those enigmatic words, Sherlock left to go to bed. John shook his head before taking himself to the bathroom to clean up. Tonight had been good, he needed to sleep.

He worked a full shift the next day and got a text from Sherlock just as he was leaving for home, “Morgue ASAP.” John turned on his heel and made his way downstairs to the morgue where Sherlock looked up, “Good, you’re here. Come with me.”

Sherlock walked briskly toward John and past him, moving quickly down the hallways until they were near the hospital cafeteria. There were single bathrooms along one hallway and Sherlock pushed John into the one closest to the entrance. People were walking in and out as continuous lunch service attracted people when they had a spare minute, “What are we doing here?”

“Quiet, John,” Sherlock’s voice was hushed, “There are vents on the door, no way to block sound. Be as quiet as you can.

John silenced himself and strained to listen, “Put your hands on the door, John.” John did so, his feet automatically bracing apart, “Don’t make a sound.”

John heard a crinkling sound, “What are you doing?”

“Shh.”

John felt Sherlock reaching around and tugging at his zip, “What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded. _Sometimes Sherlock went way too far, was it so difficult to explain things to John?_

Sherlock’ lips were right by his ear as he hissed angrily, “ _Silence, John!_ Unless you’re going to say _no_ don’t move a muscle.” John froze. Sherlock’s clever fingers had already undone John’s trousers and were reaching inside. Calmly the detective pulled John’s cock out of his pants and let it hang there while he did something behind John’s back. The crinkling sound was followed by a tearing sound. Sherlock’s fingers came back, pushing John’s trousers below his arse and John gasped softly as the detective began stroking him, “No sound John, nothing. There are a hundred people on the other side of that door, colleagues, patients, _staff_.”

With each word, John grew harder. He could see the light flicker through the vent in the door; people were walking past only a few inches away. Sherlock’s fingers were now working on a stone hard shaft. John was struggling to control his breathing so his panting didn’t become desperately loud. _God the man was so good at this!_ John choked back his moans when Sherlock used his other hand to slide down the crease of John’s arse to begin fingering him, “Not a word.” commanded Sherlock and John kept still and silent.

He’d never let anyone fuck his arse before. He loved to be the one that topped, he’d never once offered his arse to anyone. Sherlock was already working one entire finger into it and John wasn’t even flinching. There was no sound but the electric buzz of the lights and the hum of the automatic fan broken with occasional conversation from people walking back and forth. Sherlock stopped stroking him long enough to drizzle more lube onto his fingers before inserting the second one and then eventually a third. The doorknob rattled more than once, they’d been in there for over half an hour already. John had managed to stifle his whines and whimpers, forcibly controlling his breathing so only the softest of frantic panting could be heard. His thighs were already trembling. Sherlock stopped touching John long enough to roll on a condom and to position himself. He let John breathe his way through the first slow pushes but didn’t wait long before he was working his thick cock deeper and deeper into John.

It was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt. He’d never considered how good it would feel to have something so hot, so solid, so wide deep inside him. It had been uncomfortable mostly for the newness of it but the threat of being discovered kept him mute. Instead, John shook and bit his lip so hard it nearly bled. His toes were curling in his shoes as Sherlock invaded the very centre of his being. John felt almost disconnected with the world as his ass was made to give way and receive Sherlock. John clawed at the door, his forehead resting on its cool surface before Sherlock drew back and thrust in fully. John almost grunted but stopped himself. Sherlock drew back again and this time John knew what to expect. He nearly grunted again but stifled it, his breathing becoming a tiny bit rougher but no louder so Sherlock continued.

Sherlock bit the back of his neck, his own breaths broken with infinitesimally soft moans. His fingers were digging into John’s hipbones as his cock ploughed deep. “S...s…stroke yourself.” stuttered Sherlock in a broken whisper, “N...no...o...oooo...o sssssound.” Sherlock sounded drunk as he continued to fuck John as hard as he could. John grasped himself and arched his back a bit as he began. The tiniest of moans escaped him but he quickly bit it back, his fingers moving expertly as Sherlock panted into the back of his head. John heard Sherlock draw in one small shuddering breath and that did it for him.

John had never had an orgasm like the one he had then. His fingers scrabbled against the door as his feet slipped, his knees weak as his whole body seemed to want to spasm everywhere simultaneously. Somehow he managed to keep everything down to a nearly silent sigh of release. John had no idea how he managed that, his body wasn’t his at the moment. Only the fact that Sherlock was now fucking him desperately up against the wall was keeping him from falling to the floor. Sherlock had shoved his hand forward to catch the mess in some tissue but as soon as John was done he tossed it in the bin and resumed clutching John’s hips almost painfully. Suddenly Sherlock stopped, his hips jerking once, twice, three times as he blew out silent puffs of forcibly restrained air, silencing himself as he came. John’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt Sherlock’s cock expand slightly and throb inside him. He felt raw and stretched out now but at the same time, every single molecule in his body was humming happily.

John felt Sherlock pull out slowly and heard paper towels being used and the taps run. Weakly he pushed away from the wall and cleaned himself up, pulling his trousers up and looking at himself in the mirror. He was a bit flushed but that was it, nothing about his appearance said he’d just gotten the shag of his life. He looked at Sherlock. The detective’s cheeks were heavily flushed but it was fading fast, soon enough he looked as enigmatic as ever, his eyes assessing John closely. Without a word, Sherlock listened at the door before pulling it out and strolling calmly away. John ducked out after him noting that Sherlock managed to pick the one second when everyone was looking somewhere else. They escaped unseen.

Once they were back at Baker Street John half expected Sherlock to act like nothing had happened, that this was some kind of mad experiment but instead the detective locked the doors behind them, stripped John bare and took him to the shower. John wasn’t a young man anymore but having Sherlock Holmes’ long hard wet body sliding soapily against his would wake anyone’s cock so before John would have believed possible he was erect once again and so was Sherlock. His arse was very tender though and John didn’t know if he was supposed to bottom again. Sherlock read the question on his face and smiled wickedly, “Oh no John, this is the other part of what I like. Fuck me, John. _Hard_ , if you please.”

John’s cock was piloting John’s brain which only worked enough to fumble off the water and towel the both of them off. Sherlock walked to his bedroom, digging out a condom and a large bottle of lube before he spread a large towel down and knelt on it, “I’m getting impatient John.”

Well, John knew all about getting his partner off in a hurry. Sheathing his erection John pumped out some lube so he could prepare Sherlock. He could sympathetically feel fingers inside him and wondered if Sherlock was going to keep the same no noise rule. That question was answered when Sherlock moaned the most wonderfully erotic and devastatingly arousing moan John had ever heard. It was deep. It rumbled. It vibrated and made the hairs on John’s body stand on end.

John lost himself in stretching Sherlock’s arse open. It was beautiful, hot, tight, _welcoming_. John took only a moment to admire the splendour. “Oh god yes,” he sighed and pushed home. Sherlock was a wild creature. He bucked and twisted, he bent and arched. Finally, John flipped him onto his back and pushed his knees wide, nearly stabbing him with his cock as he re-entered. In this position, John was able to see Sherlock’s eyes roll back at the rough treatment and he smiled. _This was what did it for Sherlock? Well,_   _John could deliver._

Sherlock was loud. John loved listening to the endless stream of absolutely filthy things that his flatmate begged for and he wasn’t one to deny perfectly reasonable requests. Sherlock begged in the most wanton way, groaning and thrashing, obviously completely incapable of holding back in any way. John loved that too. Well versed in quickly finding what got his partner off John used his extensive skills to good effect. John Watson was a small man but he was in no way a _weak_ one. Even with his bad shoulder, John was more than able to manhandle all six feet of consulting detective, contorting him anyway the doctor chose while John savagely fucked Sherlock until the detective’s bed was in danger of being broken entirely in half. The rhythmic creak of it was blatant, anyone who heard it would instantly know what they were doing and the thought of the neighbours listening in titillated John and somehow he managed to fuck Sherlock even harder.

The detective was _flexible_ and John made use of that. Breathing heavily John thrust deeply into Sherlock’s arse. Whenever he could he licked and kissed Sherlock’s skin wherever he could reach, and each time John noted that Sherlock’s moans became desperate and broken. Swivelling his hips a tiny bit John worked at Sherlock’s prostate and the detective was almost howling now, his cries a mix of John’s name and intermittent pleading for more. John felt heady with power as each thing he did to Sherlock induced one extreme reaction after another until the tall thin man was almost shaking from head to toe with the onset of his orgasm. Sherlock’s jaw was set and his eyes were narrowing but unfocused, John knew he’d never seen anything sexier.

When John could hold back no longer he took Sherlock in hand and worked his thick cock harshly. Sherlock’s whole body went rigid for several moments before John was treated to the sight of Sherlock Holmes in a full body orgasm that made his arms flail a bit and almost earned John a broken rib when Sherlock’s knees tried to lock together. Sherlock’s groan was so deep it was almost inaudible but it broke off into a gasping series of syllables that might have been John’s name if Sherlock had been even remotely capable of verbal control. The sensation of Sherlock’s semen splatting against his belly was incredible, and deliberately he made his thrusts smooth and gliding to extend his lover’s pleasure. John only managed to stay his orgasm long enough to fuck Sherlock through his before he gave in and came so hard he couldn’t keep himself from falling forward, his hips driving inward mindlessly until it was finally over.

John remembered to pull out gently and removed his soiled condom, knotting the end and tossing it into the bin but after that, he couldn’t move anymore and dozed where he fell, face down, right next to Sherlock who was completely unconscious. John woke sometime later with Sherlock spooned onto his back. The tall man wasn’t asleep; he’d been running his hand up and down John’s arm thoughtfully. “It’s difficult to set the parameters for accurate measurement but I’m almost certain that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” he informed John, his voice factual. “You?”

John didn’t even need to pretend to think about it. The orgasms he’d managed with Sherlock all exceeded anything he’d ever felt before, “That was pretty much the most perfect sex I’ve ever experienced.”

“ _Almost_ perfect, I didn’t get to suck your cock and I certainly didn’t get to enjoy watching you suck mine. There’s a lovely little cubicle at the Library….”

“Oh no, I’m _not_ fucking you in a library!” said John firmly. _Was Sherlock planning on letting John fuck him again because John really supported that idea?_

“Don’t be silly John, I’ll fuck _you_ there, then we come back here and you fuck _me_ again. I have a hard time being quiet when someone is inside me, as you’ve no doubt noticed.” Sherlock paused before slyly offering, “There’s also the supply closet near Lestrade’s office.” John’s mouth snapped shut. _Really? Right there in the Yard? With detectives all around them? People they worked with, people who knew them?_ John’s cock couldn’t manage it but it made a team effort to get hard, weakly thickening a bit before waving a white flag and surrendering for a moment with promises of later.

“So what are we doing now?” asked John who was realizing they were snuggling in Sherlock’s bed after having some very surprising and vigorous unplanned sex.

“Sleeping, or at least, I’ll be sleeping.” yawned Sherlock, “My arse is killing me.”

John snorted an inelegant laugh and Sherlock’s arms tightened around him, “So what _are_ we now?”

Sherlock shrugged, “Sherlock and John?” he said but he made it sound like one word _SherlockandJohn_. It sounded good and John gave in entirely.

“Fine. I’ve always liked the Natural History Museum.” John was treated to an intense snog, Sherlock almost wound all the way around John’s body to reach his mouth.

Sherlock broke away slowly, his eyes intense, “You’re always a surprise John Watson.” said the detective softly.

“And you’re always amazing,” said John. Sherlock kissed him again before curling up against John’s back once more. Tomorrow was another day and in John’s head, he was making a list of all the places he and Sherlock could visit.

 


End file.
